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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240499">The Stranger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honorificabilitudinitatibus/pseuds/Honorificabilitudinitatibus'>Honorificabilitudinitatibus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jonsa Halloween Prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, F/M, Immortals, Mentions of Cancer, Original Mythology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:54:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honorificabilitudinitatibus/pseuds/Honorificabilitudinitatibus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon meets Sansa for the first time on a chilly, autumn morning in the park. He's not sure why, but something in him feels compelled to talk to her, drawn towards her, even as no one else seems to notice her.</p><p> </p><p>Written for the Jonsa Halloween Event.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jonsa Halloween Prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Stranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Jon sees her, he’s coming back from a run. The air outside is chilled, and his breath is visible in front of his mouth- tendrils of smoke curling amidst the brilliant red of the leaves. He takes his headphones out and gives her an awkward smile as he sits on the other side of the park bench. She’s not dressed to run, he notices- she’s wearing a perfectly tailored gray coat with a cranberry colored scarf peeking out at the neck as she smiles back at him.</p><p>Something in him is driven to talk to her, and he doesn’t know why. None of the other runners have stopped- a few are giving her bench a fairly wide berth.</p><p>“Hey.” He greets, feeling slightly out of place. He never would have talked to her- finds himself unbearably tongue tied around pretty girls even when he isn’t covered in a layer of sweat, but his sister’s been on him again about how he’s far too taciturn, and how making conversation on occasion wouldn’t kill him, and she is sitting on his usual bench. There’s pink in her cheeks from the cold, and her eyes sparkle as she greets him.</p><p>“Hi.” She murmurs.</p><p>“Sorry to ah- get in your space.” Jon gestures, sheepishly. She raises her eyebrows, looking amused.</p><p>“It’s hardly my space, now, is it?” she asks.</p><p>“No.” Jon chuckles slightly, taking a long draw of his water. “But still. Headed to work early?” She’s immaculately dressed, and he can’t imagine any other reason for her to be this presentable at 7 in the morning.</p><p>“No.” she murmurs, turning her head back to look out at the park. “I like watching the people here- the seasons change, the world dies, yet life goes on.”</p><p>Jon raises his own eyebrows this time. It’s not the weirdest conversation he’s ever had, but it certainly isn’t the response he was expecting.</p><p>“Uh- yeah, my sister likes to people-watch too.” He nodded, passing his water bottle from hand to hand. “Not too many people besides runners out this early, though.”</p><p>“Mmm, it’s never too early to stop and appreciate the world.” She smiled at him, something gentle and soft, and he finds himself returning it. “I suppose you could call it a hobby.”</p><p>“Everybody’s got their own thing.” Jon shrugged. He wasn’t really sure what to say- she didn’t seem bothered by his presence, but neither did she force the conversation, merely humming in agreement as they watched people occasionally jog by. “So, um, do you work near here then?”</p><p>“I do.” She smiled, as though he had told an amusing joke. “What about you?”</p><p>“Further downtown.” Jon indicated his head. “I’m a pediatric oncologist at White Harbor General.”</p><p>“Oh, that sounds fascinating.” She smiled. “a noble calling, certainly.”</p><p>“What about yourself?” Jon asked, finding himself inordinately curious.</p><p>“Oh, nothing quite so life-saving.” She chuckled, like it was a private joke. “I suppose you could call me a life coach- I work with clients, easing them into the next stages of things- helping them get where they need to be.” She smirked. “Unfortunately, I can’t really discuss the details, as each case tends to be fairly personal, but that’s the gist of it.”</p><p>“Sounds like a good gig for someone who likes to people watch.” Jon told her, grinning as he drew a genuine laugh out of her for the first time.</p><p>“You’re absolutely right.” She grinned, flashing a set of perfect teeth at him. Her lipstick was the same cranberry color as her scarf, Jon noticed. “I enjoy getting to meet new people. The only downside is having to move on once my job is done.”</p><p>“Hard to let go?” Jon asked, sympathetically. “I’ve gotten attached to a few patients where I work- saying goodbye to them is always the most difficult thing, even if it means that I’ve done my job well, and they’re ready to move on.”</p><p>She turns and gives him a knowing look, a flash of some deep sorrow in her eyes as she reaches over to squeeze his hand. He starts a bit at the contact- it’s unexpected, but he finds it not unwelcome.</p><p>“I know exactly the feeling.” She whispered. “It’s hard, sometimes, not to want more time.”</p><p>“It is.” Jon agreed, squeezing her hand back. It’s warm- almost hot- even in the chilly air. He glimpses at his watch quickly and swears. “I’m sorry- I have to run or I’ll be late for work.”</p><p>Only later does he realize he hadn’t even gotten her name.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s been almost two weeks since Jon has run into the woman- long enough to be slightly disappointed that they hadn’t crossed paths again- and he is thoroughly unprepared to encounter her again at a coffee shop near his apartment. She’s sitting at a table outside, under an ivy awning, and writing something in a leather-bound journal. He's had a minor headache all day, but he'll be damned if he lets that stop him.</p><p>“Fancy seeing you here.” He greeted, resting a hand on the chair across from her. She’s dressed in gray again, but rather than her neatly tailored coat, she’s outfitted in a flowing silk blouse that looks like smoke and ties at her neck. She looked up, giving him a brilliant smile.</p><p>“The doctor.” She greets, and there’s a part of him that’s absurdly pleased that a woman like this would remember him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>“I was just in the neighborhood, and- uh- it’s Jon.” He flushes slightly. “Jon Snow. I’m- ah- not sure I introduced myself last time.”</p><p>He held out a hand, and she shook it easily, her skin far cooler than he had expected.</p><p>“I’m Sansa.” Her eyes softened. “Would you care to join me?”</p><p>“I would-“ Jon broke off, swearing as his pager went off. He looked up at her, regret clear in his face. “I’m sorry- I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Sansa!”</p><p>He dashed out the door, not noticing the way her lips pursed, as though she was lost in thought.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Dr. Snow!” Naerys pipes up, grinning from ear to ear. “You should meet my friend!”</p><p>Jon raises an eyebrow, but the six-year-old is one of his favorite patients, and so he lets her drag him down the hall to her room, where he blinks in surprise at the familiar face.</p><p>“Sansa?”</p><p>“Hello Jon.” She greets, a warm sort of amusement in her voice. Something in her looks different today- there’s color in her face where there had been only ivory skin before. Briefly, he wonders at the change.</p><p>“How are you-?”</p><p>“I volunteer here on occasion.” Sansa smiled at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before- you left rather quickly the other day.”</p><p>“Duty calls.” Jon shrugged, with a slight grin. “I’ll, um- see you around?”</p><p>“Of course.” Sansa smiles.</p><p>Jon pops his head in a second later.</p><p>“Care to take a raincheck on that coffee?” he asks, a bit sheepishly.</p><p>“I’m free tomorrow morning.” Sansa grins at him. “8am at Browning’s?”</p><p>“Perfect.” Jon feels his own grin stretch, and there’s something like wonder in Sansa’s eyes when he turns to leave.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sansa watches him from the edge of the park, as he smiles at his sister- teases her and laughs as she smacks him in the arm.</p><p>“You’ve been watching this one a lot.” A voice noted, and Sansa turned to face the person next to her, raising an unimpressed brow.</p><p>“He’s interesting.” She admitted. “I like him- he has a kind heart, and a sort of blunt determination.”</p><p>“Father’s noticed.” Arya told her, sounding almost sheepish as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her ripped jeans and scuffed the combat boots that Sansa had always thought had too many buckles. “He’s concerned that you might interfere.”</p><p>“He has nothing to worry about.” Sansa sighed; voice tinged with regret. “I wish I could, at times, but it would be crueler to interfere with his fate.” She looked down. “I don’t want him to suffer.”</p><p>“What’s so special about this one?” Arya asked, tilting her head. “He’s handsome, certainly.”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Sansa murmured. “Something about his soul just- shines to me. Stands out. I don’t know why, but something just draws me to him.”</p><p>“Like Mya?”</p><p>“Not quite.” Sansa’s mouth quirked in a smile as she looked down at her sister, who was raising an eyebrow and chewing bubblegum while she waited for an explanation. “Mya was special- they all are, in one way or another- but people like Mya and Jon-“ she shook her head, pressing her lips together, “I suppose they make me wonder what their potential is- what they could be.”</p><p>“You could ask our brother about his fate.” Arya suggested, shoving her hands in her pockets as she blew and popped a bubble of gum.</p><p>“I couldn’t ask that of Bran.” Sansa shook her head. “I won’t make him sift through the strings just to assuage my curiosity.”</p><p>“Suit yourself.” Arya shrugged. “You don’t have much time to change your mind, though.”</p><p>Sansa sighed, biting her lip.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jon is so wrapped up in his own grief that he barely notices when someone sits down next to him on his isolated bench by the shoreline.</p><p>“Rough day?”</p><p>Jon’s head shoots up, and he’s horribly embarrassed at the tear tracks on his face as he sees Sansa.</p><p>“A bit.” He murmurs, his voice raspy as he tries to muster a smile. “In my line of work, there are days where you win, and days where you can’t hold off death, no matter how hard you try.”</p><p>Sansa squeezes his hand, her expression so <em>open </em>and understanding that Jon has to press his lips together to keep from breaking down again.</p><p>“I wish that were possible.” She murmured. “I’m sorry that you lost a patient.”</p><p>“It- it was Naerys.” Jon shook his head, in disbelief. “She was only six, Sansa. She was- she was in remission until one day, she wasn’t, and I had to tell her parents that she wouldn’t live to see her seventh birthday.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Sansa whispered. “I know that you did everything that you could, and I know that nothing I say can make this better right now.”</p><p>“I just- I fight death every damn day.” Jon shook his head, gritting his teeth. “But no matter how often I do it, it’s never easy to accept.”</p><p>“Inevitability often is.” Sansa murmurs, and Jon’s head shoots up, brows creasing at her odd words. “But if I know anything about you, it’s that you did everything you could, and you did the best you could.”</p><p>“It’s never enough.“ Jon said, hoarsely, running a shaking hand through his ragged hair. “But-“ he gave her a weak smile, “Thank you, Sansa.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Do you ever wonder what it’s like?” she asked her brother, watching as he seemed to emerge from the focused state she’d found him in.</p><p>“I wonder a lot of things.” Bran murmured, his eyes changing back from the stark, blank white that he used to watch the strings of fate, to their usual gray. “What are you thinking about?”</p><p>“What it’s like to die.” Sansa told him, pursing her lips and looking out over the horizon. “Do you think anyone is ever ready for that? What must it be like, to live with the knowledge that your time is limited?”</p><p>Bran was silent, sitting with Sansa as they watched the world.</p><p>“You’re attached.” He observed. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.” Sansa gave a small huff, sitting next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.</p><p>“Is that such a bad thing?”</p><p>“I think,” Bran told her, “That compassion and empathy are a double-edged sword. They make you a figure people are drawn to, but-“ he paused, sighing, “I’ve seen it play out a million times in a million lifetimes, Sansa. Attachment like this inevitably leads to pain.”</p><p>“Perhaps that’s it.” Sansa murmured, sitting up to face her brother with a sad smile.</p><p>“What is?”</p><p>“Knowing-“ Sansa paused, biting her lip, “Knowing the pain it brings, but savoring the moments while you can. Perhaps that’s what living and dying is like.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next time he sees Sansa, he practically runs into her outside of the hospital after a volunteer shift (he’d deny that he had been watching the clock, waiting to catch her) and asks her to have dinner with him. She agrees, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth as he tells her where the restaurant is.</p><p>“How is the life-coaching going?” he asks, taking her coat for her. She’s in gray again, but a paler dress that falls around her knees like water- it’s oddly striking with her bright hair. “I know you can’t say much about your clients, but I am curious.”</p><p>“The one I’m working with right now-“ Sansa taps her chin, thinking, pursing her cranberry colored lips, “I think that this one is going to be more difficult than usual to say goodbye to.” She reaches up to adjust one of her earrings- amber drops that catch the highlights of her hair.</p><p>“Oh, are you almost finished?” There’s a sort of sorrow in her eyes, and he wonders with a swooping in his stomach if Sansa has feelings for this client- if her gentle refusal to give him her phone number is a result of that interest.</p><p>“I have a few days left with them.” Sansa murmured. “That’s the downside to this job- like I told you, it’s easy to get over-invested in the people you work with. But we’ve done some good work- I think it’ll be easier for him to say goodbye when the time comes.”</p><p>“Then you’ve done your job well, right?” Jon smiles at her, covering his hand with her own.</p><p>“I suppose so.” Sansa murmurs, tilting her head with an expression that he can’t quite place. “Attachment can be difficult.”</p><p>For a second, her eyes look far older than she seems, and Jon blinks at the change, even as the warmth returns to them.</p><p>“For all of us.” He agrees. “We just have to keep moving forward.” He rubs his neck and Sansa’s eyebrows furrow.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Just another headache.” Jon waved her off. “I think it’s just work stress.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You’ve been distracted.”</p><p>Sansa winces- her mother's voice is not a condemnation, but there is something ancient and powerful that reverberates within her words, reminding Sansa that, next to Catelyn, she is still so <em>achingly </em>young. Primordial as she may be, though, her eyes are soft as she steps next to her daughter. </p><p>“I suppose I wish I could keep this one.” Sansa murmurs, letting her mother place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He’s- there’s something special about him.”</p><p>“There’s something special about all of them, dearest.” Her mother murmured, stroking her hair. “Effervescent and fleeting, their lives are, but they are rich, and full of blessings.” She stared out into the harbor as they watched the ships sail in. the skies were gray, winds gusting. “I watch over them in life, and you and your sister watch over and care for them as they move on from life- it is a kindness, Sansa. You know this.”</p><p>“I know.” Sansa lowered her head. “I know- it’s just- he cares for sick children, mother.” She bit her lip. “He’s very generous, and he has kind eyes. I just- it just doesn’t seem like enough for someone like him.”</p><p>“He will have more chances.” Her mother murmured, watching him hand a scarf to a woman who had dropped it and smile at her young son. “Your father and I cannot reverse what has already been put into motion, but a soul like his will be able to return someday.”</p><p>Sansa just watches him, silently leaning into her mother’s embrace.</p><p>"It isn't fair." she whispered.</p><p>"It rarely is." Catelyn agreed. "My only consolation when I cannot look out for them in life is that I know you and your sister will care for them in death." She turned to her daughter, eyes bright and blue and ageless as the sky. "Find consolation in the peace you bring, Sansa."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jon’s head has been bothering him all day now, his neck stiff, and it’s only 11am, so he’s guaranteed a miserable day.</p><p>He’s on his way to the break room when a sharp pain tears through his skull and he winces, clutching his head.</p><p>“Dr. Snow?” one of the nurses rushes over to him. “Are you alright?”</p><p>Jon tries to tell her that he’s fine, that she doesn’t need to worry, but his mouth won’t work, and when he tries to grab the wall, he falls.</p><p>Everything after that is black.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.” Sansa is there, taking his hand, but she’s wearing an odd, shimmering gray gown that flickers like mist.</p><p>“What happened?” Jon asks, looking around in confusion. “The hospital- I was coming in to work-“</p><p>“You had an aneurysm that ruptured in your brain.” Sansa told him, her voice gentle and soft. Her hand was warm, and Jon clung to it like a lifeline. “Do you remember?”</p><p>“It hurt.” Jon managed to get out. “My head- I remember having a headache, but I feel fine now.”</p><p>“I imagine you would.” Sansa cocked her head slightly.</p><p>“Where- where am I?” he asked, something like fear shooting through him. “What happened?”</p><p>“You collapsed.” Sansa told him, soothingly, cupping his cheek in her other hand. “Your body couldn’t handle the strain.” There was no pity in her eyes, only a deep, gentle sorrow and compassion. “You aren’t going to be able to go back anymore, Jon.”</p><p>“I- but I have to.” Jon protested. “I have- I have work- and my sister is getting married in two months and I promised her I would walk her down the aisle. I- I have an appointment at noon.”</p><p>“I wish you could.” Sansa whispered. “But there is no going back- you aren’t alive anymore, Jon.”</p><p>“But how could I- I don’t understand.” Jon stammered, feeling panic set in. he clutched at Sansa’s hand- he knew her- she was <em>safe</em>. “How- how can I be dead if you’re here too?”</p><p>Sansa ran her thumb across the bridge of his cheek, and he leaned into the kindness of her touch.</p><p>“Sansa-“ he pleaded, “Please- I don’t- I don’t <em>understand</em>.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Jon.” Sansa reassured him, her gentle touch the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “You’re a physician- a healer. Think about what you know about aneurysms. What do you think happened?”</p><p>“I think-“ Jon looked around the blank, misty space, certainty and dread settling in his bones, “I think that a patient who suffered a rupture that severe wouldn’t have woken up.” He turned back to Sansa, a pleading note in his voice that was almost embarrassing. “I- I’m dead, aren’t I?”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Sansa told him softly, bringing her hand down to rest on his shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I wish I could tell you otherwise.”</p><p>Jon took a few shaking breaths, anchoring himself in the sound of her voice, the feel of her warm hand against his. He opened his eyes, looking down at Sansa again.</p><p>“How- how are you here?” he asked, bringing his own hand up to touch her cheek. “Are you- am I imagining you?”</p><p>“No.” Sansa smiled, shaking her head. “I promise that I am very real, and that I am not going to leave you right now.”</p><p>“Then who are you?” Jon whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.</p><p>“They used to call us the Stranger.” Sansa told him, guiding him towards a bench that looked suspiciously like the park bench that they’d met on, all those weeks ago. “My sister and I, that is. That was always her favorite of all the things that mortals would name us.”</p><p>“The Stranger?” Jon breathed, looking up. “Death- you’re… you’re death?”</p><p>Sansa smiled warmly at him.</p><p>“Does that surprise you?” she murmured.</p><p>“Well, yes.” Jon managed to get out, staring at the beautiful young woman in front of him. “You’re-“</p><p>“You were expecting a black cloak and a skull, perhaps?” Sansa smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners.</p><p>“Something more like that.” Jon admitted, almost sheepishly. “Something- frightening, I suppose.”</p><p>“Did you <em>want</em> frightening?” Sansa asked, her mouth quirking as she raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“No.” Jon let out a shaky chuckle. ”No- I would much rather have you here.”</p><p>Sansa smiled at that, reaching over to comb her fingers through his hair. It was almost embarrassing how eagerly he leaned into her touch.</p><p>“My job, and my sister’s job, is to guide souls from life to death.” Sansa told him. “To ease the process along. Neither of us can stop death- I have wanted to, many times.” She admitted, with a sad smile. “So often, lives are over far too soon- and when that happens- when death is incomprehensible to a person- I aid their transition- help ease the pain of being taken too soon.”</p><p>“I just- I thought I had more <em>time</em>.” Jon’s voice breaks as he buries his face in his hands.</p><p>“Most do.” Sansa told him, kindly. “For those who have been ill for a while, or those who are older, and already in the twilight of their lives, this is easier to accept. But no matter how sudden, no one is alone when they go.”</p><p>A thought occurs to Jon and he looks up, frantically, eyes wide.</p><p>“Naerys-“</p><p>Sansa’s smile is warm.</p><p>“I helped her too.” She murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She was never alone here, Jon- I promise you.”</p><p>“She must have been so confused- so lost.” Jon whispered.</p><p>“I held her hand when she left.” Sansa told him. “But she understood, Jon.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Children often understand far quicker than adults. We played a few games, and I sang for her, and held her safe and warm before we sent her off. She was ready to go, in the end.”</p><p>“How can you say that?” Jon asked, fury and grief mingling in his voice.  “She was <em>six</em>- she wasn’t ready to <em>die</em>-“</p><p>“No one really is.” Sansa murmured. “But she was tired- hurting more than you or her parents realized. I wish it was not so, but as I told you, death is inevitable.”</p><p>Jon let out a choked sort of sob, anger with himself- that he hadn’t realized how badly the girl was hurting- combined with a cool relief coursing through him that she hadn’t been alone- that she’d had Sansa’s kind presence with her. She let him cry, shoulders shuddering for several minutes, before he managed to pull himself together. Looking up at her, he realized something.</p><p>“She was the only other person I saw you interact with.” He murmured, voice thick. “Could anyone else see you?”</p><p>“They could.” Sansa’s lips quirked. “But none save those near the end of their lives are driven to speak with the stranger. You were drawn to me the same way she was.”</p><p>“I just- I don’t understand.” Jon murmured, shaking his head. “You’re- you aren’t anything like what I was expecting. Death is violent- but-“</p><p>“Life-“ Sansa corrected him with a small smile, “<em>living </em>can be harsh and violent. Tell me, do you feel any pain? Any stress?”</p><p>“No.” Jon answered, slowly, after a moment. “I remember the pain- it was excruciating- but there’s nothing now.”</p><p>“Death is not a punishment, Jon.” Sansa murmured, brushing his hair behind his ear. “Merely an inevitability.”</p><p>He nodded, something like hollow acceptance settling in his stomach, and they sat, hands entwined, for what felt like hours.</p><p>“What happens next?” he finally asked.</p><p>“You move on, when you’re ready.” Sansa told him. “When that is- that’s up to you.”</p><p>“How- you can’t do this for everyone, though, can you?”</p><p>“I exist outside of any bounds of time you could understand.” Sansa murmured. “So does this place.”</p><p>“But you’re the only one to guide souls over?” he asked.</p><p>“My sister and I both do.” Sansa smiled. “We are two, but humans don’t usually have more than one name for us.”</p><p>“What’s her name?”</p><p>“Arya.” Sansa murmured, her mouth quirking in a smile.</p><p>“Why did you come to me, and not her?” Jon asked, voice hoarse as Sansa chuckled.</p><p>“We are- oh, what’s the expression-“ she murmured, tapping her chin, “two sides of the same coin, you might say.” she raised her eyebrows. “I… ease the passing of those who are lost, confused. My sister- well-“ she chuckled, “She is the justice found in death- the one who pulls souls that would fight this- souls that have corrupted themselves in their lives and have to be dragged to the beyond, kicking and screaming. Believe me, you aren’t the type that she would appear to.”</p><p>“Oh.” Jon answered, weakly. “Well, I’m grateful for that then.”</p><p>They’re quiet for another period of time.</p><p>“Can I ask you a question?” Jon says, after a while.</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“A life coach?” he asked, raising a brow as a brilliant grin spread across Sansa’s face and she laughed. “Really?”</p><p>“Well how would you describe it?” Sansa raised a brow, still giggling.</p><p>“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a worse joke.” Jon huffed, shaking his head and grinning all the while.</p><p>“My brother said the same thing.” Sansa chuckled. “But with what we do, you have to find the humor somewhere.”</p><p>Her smile is beautiful, but Jon still isn’t ready- fear still pounds inside his chest at the inevitability of the unknown.  They’re quiet for a few minutes, and her hand in his is a comfort he doesn’t want to give up.</p><p>“Will you- will you stay with me?” Jon asked, something tearing at his chest. “Until I’m ready to go?”</p><p>“I will wait with you for as long as you need.” She promised. “I’ll be here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has a different feel than a lot of my work, so I'm hoping it won't be too jarring. I've been super busy this month because school is kicking my ass, but i wrote this in preparation for this prompt a while ago, and figured it wouldn't hurt to share. I wanted it to be more halloween themed, but it feels more autumnal than anything else. Because i've been so busy, this has only been proofread once (I usually do 3 or 4 read throughs of my work)- so go easy on me if some things are capitalized wrong or the tenses are a bit off haha.</p><p>I’m not particularly religious for… many reasons, so this concept was a bit unusual for me. But I like the idea of the personification of death as a caretaker rather than an evil figure. Also, for some reason, I really like writing themes of Sansa personifying death in my work- there’s more than one piece with that concept in my WIP folder. The image of Arya acting as justice, bringing those who try to escape them in, was also kind of too good to pass up. (Also, even if everyone else hates it, the idea of Sansa's corny humor and calling herself a life coach made me cackle, so it's a bit of levity in an otherwise tonally gloomy piece).</p><p>Thanks so much for all of your kind words, your comments and kudos and bookmarks and subscriptions! I love getting to hear from all of you- feel free to come say hi to me on tumblr! I’m @mkstrigidae! Stay safe and healthy, and hang in there, friends.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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